


Fool

by Eunsuri



Series: Ablaze [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgard, Asgard (Marvel), Asgardian Loki (Marvel), Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Dom Loki (Marvel), F/M, Fighting Kink, Light Angst, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki Posing as Odin, Loki is an ass, Marvel Universe, POV Second Person, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Sorcerers, Stick Fighting, Trickster Loki (Marvel), no y/n
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eunsuri/pseuds/Eunsuri
Summary: Months after the events in Svartalfheim, you are summoned to Asgard by Odin, where you discover that your lover still lives.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Loki - Fandom - Relationship
Series: Ablaze [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715029
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Fool

**Author's Note:**

> You are a sorceress from another world who had been present during the events of Svartalfheim. Odin has summoned you to Asgard in order to retrieve an artefact, though you are slightly reluctant after witnessing the death of your lover.

  
  


The bright light of the Bifrost flashed and flickered around you, your hair settling as the blasting wind from the portal came to a halt. Your feet landed gracefully on the Observatory floor and you tucked your staff into its holster against your back, the iron snapping into the handle.

A bald, burly man stood in the center, gripping Hofund tightly in his gloved hands while two Asgardian ladies dressed in fine silk gowns were seated on the stairs. The three gawked at you intently, your clothing and staff a clear indication of the fact that you were not of Asgard. 

“Skurge, I presume? Where is Heimdall?” You questioned the tall man as you eyed the two maidens with a raised brow.

“He’s been banished. Heimdall is a traitor to Asgard,” he informed haughtily.

You pressed your lips together firmly and nodded, “Right.”

“You’re the sorceress the King sent for?” Skurge released the Bifrost Sword and stepped down towards you.

“Correct,” you gave another nod and began towards the Rainbow Bridge. “I assume I have no need to be announced." 

Without waiting for a response, you strolled past the giant golden cogs and through the archway. The fresh air filled your lungs instantly and the warm sunlight bathed your skin through the clouds. You loved the glistening gold structures of Asgard which towered high into the sky while the waters around the land rippled and glittered from the reflection. The length of the Bridge stretched out across to the grand Palace, an array of colours shining through the crystalline surface. 

Your staff slid open to its full length when you removed it from the holster, tapping it against the Bridge before leaping onto the iron steadily as it released a burst of wind and thrust you across the air. _Much faster this way._

The breeze rushed through your tresses and your clothes flapped back and forth while you glided towards the enormous structure. You could make out the contours of other planets and moons in the sky, shying behind stars as the sun had made its way further down. Asgard was truly a magnificent sight to behold, but it brought a bittersweet taste to your senses upon your return to the land. It was nearing a full year since your last visit, before you had lost someone dear to you.

Once you had arrived at your destination, you hopped to the ground at the entrance and tucked the staff away. You inhaled deeply to soothe and steel your heart, then proceeded into the Palace and towards the Throne Room. Although you had seen it before, the large hall still astounded you with its thick golden columns and intricately painted tiles. 

Four guards stood on either side of the throne towards the back, at the ready, and seated upon the magnificently designed throne was Odin Allfather, King of Asgard. He held his magical spear steady to his right and you noted how he was seated on an angle, leaning towards his left with his cheek resting against the back of his hand. _Oddly casual for Odin._

“Your Highness,” you greeted once you arrived at the foot of the platform and dropped elegantly into a kneel. 

“Welcome back, Sorceress,” he lifted his head with a nod as his arm relaxed down. Behind his beard you could see his lips were curved into what seemed to be a small smirk. He bounced the bottom of his spear once against the gilded floor of his throne and waved a hand dismissively to his guards. “Leave us.”

Rising from your knee, you watched the armour clad wardens march out of the hall promptly. “A private audience, your Majesty?” You asked once the room had cleared.

“Indeed,” he beckoned you forward as he shifted in his seat.

Following his command, you tread up the stairs cautiously, the sound of your metal coated boots clicking slowly over the silence. Your heart skipped when a familiar, playful gleam twinkled in his eye while he watched you fixedly, catching you off guard. 

_No way. It couldn’t be…_

Your footsteps increased in haste until you halted before him, gaze still locked onto his as you couldn’t help but tilt forward slightly. You placed your hands on the arms of his throne and spoke.

“Hello, Mischief.”

With a light chuckle and a quick shake of his head, the King lifted himself to stand close, towering over you. Your heart accelerated and your throat constricted, while your stomach turned and a tingle slipped up your back. A wash of light flashed from his nose and spread instantly over his face and body, revealing the face you thought you’d never see again.

His snowy beard and grey hair dissipated, unveiling his smirking lips and his lustrous raven locks. There was no longer a patch hiding his mischievous blue eyes, which were fixed on your own. “Well done.”

Your breath caught as you studied his features, feeling as though he would disappear if you blinked and it would be another cruel illusion or a dream, but this time, you could feel him. You could sense the warmth of his body and smell the leather of his clothing, mixed with his usual crisp, clean scent. You could almost taste his lips when his silky voice left them.

_It really is him, it’s not just a dream._

First came relief, then joy, followed by a wave of grief, until fury and adrenaline prickled through your veins. Unable to repel your rage, you brought a hand up to swat his face, but he caught your wrist instantly before you could make contact. His taunting grin only pressed at your urge to hit him and without hesitation, you reached for your staff; which he obstructed with his spear.

“You should know by now that not many people can surprise me, so why do you insist on trying?” Loki teased as you glowered at him with flames alight in your eyes.

“You truly _are_ a slippery bastard,” you hissed and stepped back, brandishing your weapon.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he sighed wryly, lowering his hands to his sides.

“I watched you die,” you cried out as you rushed forward, swinging your staff at him from the right.

“That, you did,” he deflected your attack, sending you backwards and swiping towards your legs.

You sprung up to dodge his blow and brought your staff down the middle, meeting with his and bringing it in a loop in an attempt to disarm him. “I’ve mourned you this whole time! Denied the comforts of any other man-”

“Look, I-” he was cut off when your staff met his chest and thrust him back against the golden throne.

“And what have you been doing, Your Highness? Lounging about your Palace in your frilly robes?” You sneered as you knocked Gungnir from his hand. Your frustration burned in your chest as you breathed. “Indulging in Asgardian wenches while I cried for you?”

“Darling, I’d do nothing of the sort,” his laugh was taunting. He stood as you twirled your weapon, holding your stance on the steps below while he flicked his wrists to draw his blades.

“Why didn’t you at least give me some indication-” you held your staff up to block an incoming strike of his knife. “That you were alive?”

“I had to maintain the illusion,” he brought his second blade towards your torso.

You turned your staff diagonally, swatting the second blade to the side. “That is the _worst_ excuse I’ve ever heard, Loki.” 

“Do you plan on slaughtering me yourself this time, then?” He caught the end of your weapon and twisted upwards, using your firm grip on it to swivel your back to him.

“Yes, and I will bring you back from the depths of Hel, just to slaughter you again, if I must,” you spat, venom laced within your words as your back collided with his chest.

“Get on with it then,” he snickered with his blade held to your neck, the other arm taut around your waist. You could feel his hot breath trickle down your ear as he whispered into your hair just above. “You have grown stronger.”

Steadying your panting and chaotically rapid pulse, you angled your neck to glance up at him, eyes landing on his parted lips. Rolling onto the balls of your feet, you raised yourself to near his lips, where he responded by lowering his head towards yours. You took the opportunity to use the full strength of your body and knock him back onto the throne.

You slipped out of his arms when you felt his grip loosen as he landed and jabbed your staff towards his slumped form. “And you have grown foolish, my love.”

Loki remained still on the seat for a moment, until you felt a warmth behind you and his figure disappeared. Before you could react, the bottom of your weapon was raised into the air and turned against your body, thrusting down at you. 

“Hey, no tricks. I didn’t use my magic,” you struggled against the pressure of your staff, finding yourself pressed onto the surface of the staircase. 

“Then _you_ are the fool, sweetheart,” he retorted, provoking you to kick his leg and bring him down with you.

His grasp remained solid on the staff while you wrestled against the floor, before he used his power to tear it back, dragging you along towards him. You heard it clank against the tiles as he tossed it down and shoved your arm against the stairs, his blade once again held above your throat. 

“Will you forgive me now that you are at my mercy?” The playful glint in his captivating eyes shone brighter as he hovered over you.

You released an exasperated sigh, laying your head back on the cool surface. After a short moment of composing your thoughts and breathing, you rolled your eyes, unable to resist his smug grin. 

“Look at you,” your fingers trailed into his long dark hair and nodded towards the golden throne. “You’ve won the crown you’ve desired for so long. A _King_.” 

The King accepted your words as a victory, removing his blade and replacing it with a warm hand around your neck. His breath lingered softly as his black locks tickled your cheek, then your lips met fiercely in a stormy kiss, moving together with a slow yet fervent motion. You could feel the intoxicating and tingling sensation of your magic weaving into his. He liberated your arm he’d held down, allowing you to coil it around his neck while he found your waist and you tugged each other closer. 

It was precisely what you both needed after the time you had spent apart. You felt the weight of your grief lift away, becoming replaced with relief and adoration. He was truly _alive_.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is something I couldn't get out of my head after binge-watching Marvel movies and my love for Loki re-emerged once again. I have an idea for a full fic of adventures with Loki during his reign of Asgard and beyond, so do let me know if you'd like me to turn this into a full work rather than just a little oneshot!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!


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